Poem: The Glacier

by Rafe Crane-Robinson







Aged roller,
Starting its lengthy journey at a ‘cirque’,
High up in a mountain, a bowl of snow.

Turquoise power,
Don’t be fooled by the enticing blue,
An intense force can pluck huge boulders.

Fluffy carver,
A light dusting of snow, so light, you think,
Will compact to hard ice and push mountains aside.

Gentle beast,
A icy river, not fast, just cold,
Slip to your death, an accumulating monster.

Purring lion,
Soft and friendly, but moving stealthily,
And cats have claws perfect for striations.

Smooth hider,
Vast oceans of flat, silky clouds,
But hidden are crevasses deep as can be.

  Magnificent abrasion,
A mass of beautiful grandeur so splendid,
Abrasion takes place, scratching below.

Extended traveller,
Ends up after its tiring journey,
At a grand and superb ‘piedmont’,

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